


the one drug sherlock wouldn't mind getting addicted to

by pearanormalactivity



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Longing, Love, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-22
Updated: 2014-08-22
Packaged: 2018-02-14 05:56:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2180520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearanormalactivity/pseuds/pearanormalactivity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock feels he's being drugged, and he's found the source––John's cologne.</p><p>At least, he thinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the one drug sherlock wouldn't mind getting addicted to

**Author's Note:**

> this is just a short drabble i wrote awhile ago and decided to post:)

For the first time in his entire life, Sherlock did not know what was happening to him.

Drugs had been the only explanation for something like this; he had done a search. He concluded where it was being spread.

John’s cologne.

Because every single time that Sherlock breathed in the manufactured scent of pine and chemicals he got a tugging in his chest and a pain in his heart and a woozy feeling in his head. His jeans became too small and his mouth became incapable of speaking and he couldn’t stop staring at the man in front of him and taking in every wrinkle, every smile and laugh and the messiness of his hair and the color of his eyes and—

Sherlock needed to stop this drug, this cologne.

And so he threw it out, and pretended he used it in an experiment but it was no use because John, after a good riot, went out and replaced the old one.

Sherlock began to start an addiction.

He had tried consulting Mycroft, and had asked him (none too politely) to immediately dispose of the drug before it got worse. And Mycroft had sat and thought. For a long time. And then smiled, and laughed, and mentioned something about it having been “long enough” and that “John’s the one drug he wouldn’t mind Sherlock taking” to which Sherlock left the premises even more confused than he had been.

And the drug got worse. Sherlock found himself stealing John’s sweaters and constantly smelling them, breathing in the scent that was so utterly John. During crime scenes he found himself speaking the Doctor’s name aloud. John would appear in his head so often that he was a constant bother, but the worst part is that the John in Sherlock’s mind was helping him when John was away.

John went on vacation.

Sherlock felt sick. He made tea, and remembered John. Sat upon the room and remembered John. Sherlock was desperately trying everything he could to get the small, friendly Doctor out of his mind but he couldn’t, and it was driving him insane.

John not being there made it so much worse.

John came back, and Sherlock found the drug was taking over. And all he could think about was John, and holding him and hugging him and wrapping his arms around the doctor and never letting him go.

It was driving Sherlock absolutely mad.

These—feelings, they were all because of this stupid drug in John’s cologne and they were destroying the world’s only consulting detective bit by bit. Even worse, his measly brother wouldn’t even lift a finger to help.

And then it was late. John was in his chair and Sherlock in his, and John stood up to go to bed. Sherlock copied.

“I guess I’ll see you tom—“ And then John was falling and Sherlock was rushing to save him and somewhere in between their lips connected, and Sherlock felt the most amazing feeling he had ever felt before, and he didn’t try to suppress it, not this time, because it was right then that he realized it. It all hit him at once, Mycroft and the feelings and the thoughts and he suddenly knew as he was kissing John that it wasn’t the cologne that was the drug but John himself.

John has been doing this to him, and he didn’t mind it. Because John wasn’t any drug.

He was the one drug Sherlock wouldn’t mind getting addicted to.


End file.
